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“No, of course not.” He subtly points to the driver with his chin.
I glance up at the driver as his eyes flick up to us in the rear view mirror.
Shit. I turn and look out the window in annoyance. You can’t even trust a fucking cab driver. The trip is long, over an hour, but I don’t mind. I’m hanging out the window like a dog, lapping up the scenery. The place is colourful and alive… so different to anywhere I have ever been before.
With every mile farther away from the ship we get, I feel a little more of my positive self return.
I’m doing this.
I’m really doing this. I have a fake passport, the means to have a lot of money and possibility to go anywhere I want in the world unencumbered.
I have never felt so free and I am finding it hard to wipe the stupid grin from my face. As if reading my mind, Stace is looking over at me smiling, too.
Can he feel how happy I am?
Finally, after what seems like forever, we arrive and the cab comes to a halt. I peer out of the car as my bravery instantly dissipates. Stace jumps out and pays the driver, but I remain seated where I am as I try to calm my nerves. It looks okay, not at all what I imagined. I glance around at the street. It’s busy and narrow with trees lining the pavement. The doormen all look respectable and this seems pretty swanky. I kind of thought I would be getting dumped off in a ghetto somewhere.
My car door opens suddenly. It startles me and I jump. Stace frowns down at me in the car. “Out you get.”
I nod a little too quickly.
“You okay?” he asks.
I fake a smile. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” I jump out of the car.
I am okay when I have to pretend to be brave. I’ve been doing it all my life. Acting brave is my safe place.
When I act brave. I feel brave.
We walk into the lobby and Stace approaches the desk. “We have a booking in the name of Williams,” he says to the sexy blonde receptionist.
The receptionist’s eyes drop to his arms and then down his muscular body. Her eyes linger a little too long on him for my liking and I glare at her. I’m still here you know? How rude? I mean, yes, sure he’s hot, but he’s also my fucking pretend boyfriend.
Eyes off, slut.
“Yes, Sir.” She smiles sexily as her eyes hold his. He smirks back knowing exactly what she is thinking.
Good grief. If this is how things work in Columbia, I may have to cut a bitch.
My eyes flicker between the two of them in annoyance. Have they forgotten I am fucking here?
“When you are finished ogling my husband, I would like to go to our room, please,” I snap, unable to help myself.
“Of course, Mrs. Williams,” she mutters in a fluster and drops her attention to the computer and types furiously.
Ugh, why did I just say that? I feel my underarms heat with embarrassment. I peer up at Stace and he is smiling down at me like a Cheshire cat.
“Don’t,” I mouth with a dirty look. I snap my eyes away, angry that I just showed him my jealous streak.
Just leave me here and go. I really, really need you to go.
She puts the two plastic cards into an envelope and hands it over to him. “The booking is for fourteen nights and I have you in the Luxury suite as requested on the top floor.”
“Thank you,” he replies as he takes the cards from her.
Huh, fourteen nights? I frown as I follow him into the elevator and the door closes behind us.
“You booked me for fourteen nights?” I ask.
